Rhinestone Eyes
by lmaosfomgcslhs
Summary: A one-shot based off of the song Rhinestone Eyes. Its the story line I picture every time I listen to it. I feel like the Gorillaz section is lacking some honest Cyborg Noodle. Look closely, some of the lyrics are buried in there. Rated M for Adult situations/language. I have a soft spot for the nickname "Toochie"


When he looked up a sliver of grey light caught his eye in the crack between the curtains. He supposed the sun had gone up and decided to check the murky water that was his bedroom view to see if the whale was sill there. For a split moment he flinched, eyes going white, when he saw a shadow float passed his round window. However, the shadow proved to be a floating piece of trash and he relaxed again, eyes going back to their black, half-lidded state out of exhaustion. He pressed his cheek to the window in order to look up at the rippling surface of the water. It was raining, maybe hailing from look of the sharp dimples in the normally soft waves. Scrubbing his right eye from the sudden change in light, he peered at the red letters of his alarm clock.

It was 5:30.

He had missed the sun rise.

She used to love watching the sunrise. When she was younger she would wake up and watch the sun peer over the hills of dirt and debris that surrounded Kong and smile through the whole thing. When she started to grow up she got in the habit of inviting him to watch it with her. It was a morning ritual for the both of them: waking her up for the day and finally relaxing him enough to sleep.

He suddenly missed her. He wondered if she would still watch the sunrise with him now, even if it was through the tiny portal window and a few meters of water. He wondered if _it_ ever watched the sunrise. If it was able to appreciate it for what it was. Did it even _boot up_ before sunrise? He stuck his tongue out at the dirty room around him. Thinking of it made him feel unnatural. It _was_ unnatural. If he had any courage to stand up to the green bassist he would demand it be destroyed. His entrapment in his room on this island, however, spoke otherwise.

"Eigh! Lard-face! Get out 'ere and get rid 'a 'is mess on tha' beach befo' I bust ya a new dent!" shouted a voice through an intercom. He jumped, forgetting a voice could come through there. Heaving a sigh, he pulled a shirt over his blue head of hair and a pair of shoes- not bothering with the socks. He pulled on his door and got a pin prick of excitement in his stomach when it opened. It almost never did that.

When he got out of the cylindrical lift and into the messy living space he found the angry scowl of the green man sitting on the couch, boots up on the table, fingers picking at his pointed teeth. He cracked his neck and jammed a thumb towards the door. It _was_ hailing outside. Grey and miserable looking. His black eyes squinted as he made his way towards the door, scratching the back of his neck. Before he got to the handle it jiggled and swung open in his face.

_It_ stood on the other side. Hair wet from the weather, eyes looking up at him in a blank- indifferent way. Water rolled down the side of its face and he could have sworn he could see peach fuzz there, _real skin_ there. It looked soft for a moment- her hair clinging to the side of her neck, her mouth glossy, small water droplets collected on the edges of her eyelashes and rolled lazily down her cheeks when she blinked.

'Did _it_ even _need_ to blink?' he thought, realizing he had begun to refer to it as _she. _He shook his head and pushed passed it. Well, more attempted to; its shoulder ramming into its like it was a brick wall.

Not so soft after all.

As he pulled on a particularly heavy body he attempted to distract himself with something. He had a new song rolling around in his head that had piqued his interest. There were no words there, but a distant, echoing beat wailed in his skull and the faint sound of a fast falling object. Or something, he couldn't get it right. Though he was forced to write songs against his will, he was glad he was at least forced to do something he _enjoyed_ doing. When he thought about the song he thought of her face a lot.

God he missed her face. Her bright emerald eyes and how they sparkled when she smiled. He never felt so alive, so down to earth, so _human_ when he looked into them. _Its_ eyes were dull and unfeeling. When he looked into them he felt like he was looking into a machine, a distant land of cogs and screws and wires.

Its eyelashes were almost spot on, however. The way they touched its cheek when its eyes closed, or they way they fluttered when it looked up at the sun. Its hands were in the same ball park too. Slender, graceful, so small he could probably engulf them both in his palms. How they moved when it ran its hands over the countertops, through the murky water on Plastic Beach, over the strings of its guitar. Over _her_ guitar. It was _her_ guitar and _her_ eye lashes and _her_ hands and they all were stolen and dumped onto it like it was in _anyones_ right to try and replace tossed the last body into the ocean with a strong sense of disgust with himself. He knew there was no comparison between _it_ and _her _and yet the parallels pulled at his mind.

Lord his head hurt.

When he finally got inside it was late afternoon and he needed a nap badly. Rummaging through the quiet kitchen to ease his empty stomach he faintly noticed no one was around. For once neither the angry satanist nor the cyborg loomed over him. It was oddly…relaxing. He dropped a piece of bread into the toaster, not bothering to watch it burn between the red coils. He sighed through the pain in his head and the cold, wet clothes that clung to his skin. Hot toast, a shower, and a hand-full of pain killers to ease him off to sleep would do him good.

His toast popped and he grabbed it absently, dropping it on the counter when it burnt his hands. Sticking a finger in his mouth to ease the burning sensation he caught glimpse of a red wire plugged into an outlet over the counter. The damn things were taking up every outlet in the house now that the stupid thing was around. Something about charging or whatever.

He sighed and left his toast on the counter.

When he woke again his pill bottle was empty and his curtains were still pulled shut against the hail storm. He was sprawled out on his floor, dirty laundry spread out under him, soaked with sweat from his nightmares. Rubbing his head with the heel of his palm, he stood on wobbly legs. He had seen his lil' love, young and smiling. The sunshine shown on her face and she invited him to stand with her under the warm rays. He didn't move, a storm brewing behind her, the sea of Plastic Beach rising, the hail falling like stones from the skies, he just watched her strumming her guitar silently on her own grave. If only he knew where she was, he would give anything just to know she was at least alive and safe. He needed to see her face again.

He needed a drink.

Trying his door again he was surprised to find it unlocked still. taking advantage of his fleeting freedom he went up to the kitchen to see if he could find a stash of booze someplace. He found it hidden on a bookshelf. He curled up on the floor in the hallway, taking the occasional swig of liquor. Feeling woozy, he ran his fingers through his blue hair, scratching at his scalp while his head lolled to the side. His vision focusing, he noticed another red wire. To his right: it was plugged into the wall, to his left: it ran down the hallway loosely, a knot here and there. He knew where it led. It was plugged into _its_ head. He made a face at the wire, then, without thinking, he got up and followed it.

When he got to the dark room the wire curled into he leaned against the doorframe for support. Dim lights flashed at the back wall and a loud whizzing rushed towards him in waves like the shore line. Hunching forward he flicked the lights on, the florescent bulbs bright in his drunken eyes. He was face-to-face with it. It hung limp in a thin vertical gap between computer monitors and other machinery. Its eyes closed and a large red plug jutting out from behind its neck. He put the bottle of booze down on a desk by him and walked closer to it. Its face hung down, eyes closed as if it were sleeping. If he looked closely, it almost looked…peaceful. Her hair wasn't the same color, a darker almost blue shade than the real thing, but it was just as soft looking. It fell around her face in silky ribbons, shining in the bright light. He placed his hands on either side of her head, leaning heavily on the wall. His hands balled into fists as if he were clinging to the very atoms of the dry wall for support; clinging to his sanity. Keeping his gaze down he couldn't help notice her small, soft legs. The way her legs bent at the knees slightly, how he wondered how her skin felt under his rough hands.

He just… missed her so much.

Slowly, he jammed his finger into a red button beside her limp form. A loud buzzing sounded and a few extra lights went on around the room. Her body stiffened and her head straightened up, her face pointed towards his chest. Her eyes opened, staring blankly at his shirt before a soft beep sounded and she blinked, her red eyes darting around the room before they landed on his face. Her eyes sparkled in the light, red and shimmering like someone had stuck two rhinestones into her skull. She was scary, insulting, an abomination even, but he had to admit: she looked lovely. Carefully, he place his hand under her chin and lifted her head higher so she was face to face with him. She blinked blankly at him and his heart jumped into his throat.

"…Noodle?" he called out quietly. "Noods…?" She blinked again.

Oh Lord.

Without another thought 2D's lips met hers in a fit of passion. His hand pressed against the back of her head, forcing his lips against hers tighter. She was limp against him, unable to process her situation. He moved his lips against her still ones, his eyes screwed shut while hers stayed open and indifferent. Soon, however, she began to mimic his actions, her lips moving as his did. Learning software? Adaptation? He didn't care. He placed his hand back on her chin, pulling and forcing her mouth open in the most gentle way he could. Hesitantly, in fear of being bitten, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and oh dear Lord was her mouth warm and wet and so inviting. Why was her mouth even wet to begin with?

Her small tongue, which felt just like he had wanted it to (though tasted a bit like gasoline), moved against his as she learned from his actions. Snaking an arm around her small waste he pulled her close to his body. She was just starting to warm at her core after a cold hibernation of sorts and the warmer she got the hotter he got. His large hand pushed up under her shirt and felt her smooth back. She felt so _real._ Pulling on her slightly, the red cord attached to the back of her neck popped out of the wall and he had to pry himself away from her to catch his breath. She stared at him with blank eyes, but if he looked closely he could see something deeper in her rhinestone eyes. Something sparkle a little.

He dragged her out of the room and to his own.

His fit of passion did not subside, no for a while. For a long time he caressed her body, taking his time to undress her and feel the softness of her skin. She lay on his messy bed, hair sprawled out around her head in a dark halo. Her eyes never left him as his mouth touched every inch of her skin. She smelt of metal and gasoline, but if he closed his eyes she almost smelt of herbal tea…

In any other situation, he would have beaten the shit out of Murdoc for giving paying such close attention to what was in-between her legs. When 2D had first slipped off her shorts he was a little surprised to see lacy red knickers, even more so when he slipped his fingers over her sex to find that she, in fact, had a sex. Why he imagined she had such parts he dared not think about. He, instead, enjoyed the sensation of his fingers slipping inside her warmth. When he did he heard a separate soft whizzing and he found her to self lubricate.

Oh Lord he was disgusting.

Biting at he flesh of her neck he ground himself against her, holding her left knee up to her chest to get a better angle. He shivered at the contact, groaning when he angled her hips to meet him easier. He nearly sobbed into the crook of her neck when he finally pressed himself into her, his stomach tightening into a knot, his vision blurring with pleasure and tears. He thrusted himself into her, smoothing his fingers over a breast, looking into her distant eyes, fixated on him. He breathed against her chin before resting his forehead against hers. Her head was warm. His pace quickened, his climax approaching quickly. His lips attacked hers again, his groans reverberating in his lungs.

Suddenly, he slowed his pace, almost edging himself as his mouth parted from hers. He looked at her small face intently.

"Say sometin'…" he demanded. She blinked at him.

"Something" she replied. He sighed against her, pausing his movements for a moment before picking back up.

"Say… say 2D" he whispered to her.

"2D" she replied. He bit his lip.

"Say 2D-kun"

"2D-kun" His pace quickened and he buried his face in her soft hair. Her voice wasn't spot on, but it was close. He felt his heart thump in his chest.

"…Say Toochie"

"Toochie" He gasped into her hair.

"Again" He demanded, his voice quivering with pleasure. His heart swelling with love.

"Toochie"

"Foock Noodle, say it again fo' me" he whined.

"Toochie"

He gripped her hard while he was sent over the edge, the knot in his stomach coming undone, his heart swelling in his throat. He moaned out into her shoulder, his mouth gaping.

He didn't move for a while and neither did she. When he opened his eyes he noticed a red wire hanging off the bed, one end hooking up to her and the other end loose on the floor. They must have dragged it with them out of its socket. He shifted his weight over her and touched the wire, following it with his fingers up to the back of her head.

"My lil' love…" He whispered to the air.

He felt corrupted. Like a monster, replaying the scene from moments ago in his head, replaying his lapse in sanity, watching himself and… and this _thing_ from high up. He pulled out of _it_ and walked up to his window, pulling aside the shade to see the whale staring back at him. Looking up, he found it was still hailing outside. It was coming down like someone were throwing jewels into the ocean. ignoring the jolt of panic from the whale he looked back at the cyborg sitting up in his bed.

Oh Lord…


End file.
